Weeping Beauty
by DefinishChance
Summary: Do you hate Cho Chang? Please enjoy this story as it delivers the proverbial kick in the rear Cho so desperately needs,and helps relieve her affliction of disfiguring one-dimensionality. A classic romance full of tears and venom, and love's sharp claws.
1. Spare Me the Niceties

**Chapter 1: Spare Me the Niceties**

Cho Chang hurtled down the hall, blindly crashing through a group of startled first years. Her chest heaved violently and her teeth clenched as she fought to prevent the flood of tears from escaping her eyes.

_Not yet. Not until I'm out of their sight!_

Her long black ponytail streamed out behind her, leaving a trail of ink splatters to mark where she'd run. She slowed slightly, pausing to glance around for the girls' restroom.

_Stupid Slytherins! You'd think that sixteen-year-olds would be more mature! Like something as childish as this would get me!_

But even as she thought this, she knew that it _had _gotten to her, just as it always did—just as everything did, nowadays. Too late, Cho got her bearings and realized that, in her haste, she had run in the wrong direction. The closest girls' bathroom was now at the other end of the extremely long and crowded hallway. Not to mention it would require walking past _them _again.

_No_, she decided, _I won't do it. I won't put myself up for their ridicule again that easily. _

Glancing around, she noticed a door marked as a boys' restroom.

_Better that than walking around like this_, she thought. _ I'll just lock the door behind me._

Hastily, she gathered her books closer to her and rushed across the hall through the door. After a faint, "Hello?" to make sure she was alone in the room, she quickly locked the door and walked over to the mirror to survey the damage.

The state of her reflection broke her self-control. She began sobbing uncontrollably, adding runny mascara to her ink-stained hair, clothes and bag, as well as a mussed up tie and robes.

"Sc-scourgif-fy!" she wailed, her wand pointed at her chest, where the staining was most evident. Nothing happened, resulting in a renewal of even louder sobbing and weeping.

"S-s-scourgify!" Nothing.

"Scourgi-scourgify!" A small tendril of ink snaked feebly from the fabric of her shirt.

After a few more attempts, Cho sank to the floor, sitting on her heels, her arms around her knees. Her loud wails echoed back from the walls and across the marble floor, a mocking imitation of her own despair.

"Geez! What a crybaby!"

A voice. A _male_ voice! Cho's head whipped up at the sound, wisps of hair curled chaotically around her face. Across the room, looking back at her disdainfully, was a male student in Slytherin robes. He wasn't particularly tall, just over average height, with a slim build. His head was cocked to one side, casting his exceedingly messy, golden-brown hair across his thin face. He leaned in an arrogant fashion against the wall, his arms crossed haughtily over his chest.

"I-I thought I lo-locked that door." Cho said, brusquely swiping her hands over her eyes. Her attempts to calm her sobs were not working, and she continued to tremble as the boy pushed away from the wall and made his way over to her.

"You did. Alohamora is not a particularly difficult spell, Miss Soggy. Locked doors don't elicit much privacy in this school." He stopped a few feet away, appearing both amused and vaguely nauseated. "You really _are _a mess."

Cho sniffled, her depression morphing quickly into severe irritation.

"Thanks for pointing that out! 'Kick them while they're down,' right?! I'm well aware of how silly I look, and it's NOT MY FAULT!" the last three words came out somewhere between a bark and a dejected wail. Embarrassed, Cho turned, holding her head in her hands. "I hate Slytherins!" she whispered.

"What was that?" the boy asked.

"I _HATE _Slytherins!" Cho said, loudly.

"You hate Slytherins? What do you mean you hate them?"

"You know what I mean!" Cho snapped. "You're all vile, conniving snakes!"

"Are we vile _because _we're Slytherins?" the boy pondered, his voice becoming low and dangerously silky, "Or are we Slytherins because we're vile?"

"You're all the same." Cho choked, "It doesn't matter one way or the other!"

"Oh, now! I see! You detest us _all_! You judge us because of the color of our robes. You couldn't care less to see who we are beneath them."

"What does it matter _who you are_? And the color of your robes has nothing to do with it! Slytherins could wear pink and purple and still be just as loathsome! You are placed into Slytherin house because of how you act. You're picked to go there because no other house can stand the likes of you!"

The boy paused, looking at her with bemusement. "Last I checked, Slytherins were chosen for their _cunning_, not their manners. Besides, I don't believe much in the Sorting Hat's abilities anymore. Look at you. You were placed in Ravenclaw, and yet you can't even find your way to the right bathroom."

Cho's shoulders stopped quaking, and she raised her tear-stained face to the boy.

"I know who you are. _You're _that Slytherin boy! The one who's famous for his cruelty! Not even the other Slytherins can stand you! You're-" she stopped, trying to recall the name. "You're that G…Gail boy aren't you?"

The boy smirked playfully and gave a mock bow. "Gil Withers at your service, Miss Cho Chang, Moaning Myrtle's heir!"

Cho went white with outrage and sat, mouthing silent retorts. Gil laughed quietly and pointed his wand at her chest. Cho jumped reflexively and backed hurriedly away, trying to escape the wand, forgetting her own in her panic. Gil adjusted his aim and voiced clearly: "Scourgify!" adding a slight twirl of his wand that sent her mussed hair back into its usual coiffed perfection. The ink trailed out of her blouse, robes, hair and bag, leaving no trace of its presence. The wrinkles straightened and disappeared, and her tie retied itself neatly about her neck.

He gave her a cursory glance and said, "You'll have to redo your own makeup, but you look decent enough." He glanced at the door in a thoughtful way and muttered "Sixth-year Slytherins, huh? Must've been girls, too; the guys typically stick to messing with guys…I think I know who it was."

He gave her one last look, a slight shrug, then started for the door. "I think I may have a short word with them." And with that, he was gone, leaving a shell-shocked and considerably neater Cho Chang in his wake.


	2. Absent Minds, Wandering Eyes

**Chapter 2: Absent Minds, Wandering Eyes**

Gil sat, quill in hand, gazing with unfocused eyes at his History of Magic textbook. Professor Binns' voice continued droning at the edges of his consciousness, a constant, dry, buzzing annoyance. Gil yawned, trying to place what the sound reminded him of. As his eyes followed the fluttering descent of dust caught in the early afternoon sun leaking through the window, it came to him. Gil chuckled silently, envisioning the vapid, vaporous teacher in the form of a large pellucid fly.

His chuckle died quickly, though, when his newly refocused eyes registered not the neat, business-like print of the textbook page, but the face he had found himself looking at every time his resolve slipped. Cho Chang. That silly cry-baby seventh year from Ravenclaw was sitting next to her friend Spotty McSnitchPants. Gil gave himself a mental shake and turned back to his textbook. Losing patience, he silently cast the muffled silence spell:_ Tranquilio Amortigua! _The sound of Binns' lesson faded to almost absolute silence, as though he had inserted muggle earplugs into his ears.

_Now, to actually learn something. _ Gil surreptitiously flipped his book forward a few chapters, to a dog-eared page boldly titled: "**Discord of Giant Proportions: The Twenty-Sixth Giant War**." Settling more comfortably in his seat, he began to read of Horggrath's reign of terror over the giants of Ireland.

Five minutes later, Gil blinked and realized that he was, once again, looking directly at Cho. He violently jerked his eyes back to the page. This time, he_ felt_ his eyes being dragged back towards her. Giving up, he settled for a subtle view from the corner of his eye.

She was watching Binns, her eyes drooping slowly shut then blinking open suddenly. Her head was resting on one hand, gradually drooping heavier upon it. Gil watched as her hand slipped and she nearly banged her chin on the desk. She sat up abruptly, shaking her head and looking around as though she had no idea where she was. Her friend gave her a listless elbow in the ribs, and, properly chastised, she rubbed her eyes and focused again on Binns. It wasn't too long until her eyes glazed over again and her posture slumped. Gil shifted his attention to her spotted friend, Marietta, Gil remembered, who was writing feverishly on a piece of paper. That was odd. Who, in Binns' class, had the energy to take such fervent notes?

He watched her finish writing with a flourish, then push it towards Cho, who jumped and glared at her friend. Marietta pointed to the paper then mouthed, "_Read it_." Cho's eyes found it and zipped back and forth as she read. Her brow furrowed, she turned back to Marietta.

"_Who?_" Gil read her lips. Marietta looked straight at him, frowned, and pointed. Gil saw Cho turn towards him and hurriedly rushed back to his book. He felt her eyes burning the side of his skull the rest of the class, and didn't dare turn around to try and sneak a peak.

He managed to ignore her for the most part, and continued the fascinating chapter on Horggrath the Vile and Malicious. He was so brutal, he even earned the honor of _two_ adjectives in his title!

He slipped almost completely into tales of wicked and heroic acts on both sides and remained so engrossed by the time the bell rang that he didn't notice the class packing up and leaving around him. That is, until a rude finger poked him in the head.

"What?" he growled, then realized he still had the muffling charm in place. Holding up a finger to deter conversation for a moment, he collected his wand and mentally chanted the counter spell. Sound came flooding back to his ears, and it was only then that he noticed that he was alone in the room. Except, of course, for the impudent little goblin who had poked him.

"What's with the finger, you jerk?!" Recognizing the emotion-choked voice, he sighed inwardly. Of course it would be Cho Chang. He turned his head up to face her, his eyes cool.

"I had a silencing spell activated. I couldn't have heard you even if you had shouted."

"Oh." She looked taken aback. "Well, I guess that's an okay reason, but you _could_ have done it nicer."

Gil shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, what did you want? I have to get to Transfiguration, and Goddess only knows what she'd transform me into if I was late."

The corner of Cho's mouth twitched, then she said, "Fine. I'll make this short. Marietta said you were staring at me the entire class. What's your problem?"

"Ouch. 'What's my problem?' You're one to talk about not being nice! And your friend is inaccurate. I _didn't _stare at you the _entire_ class…just, a mocking glimpse here or there. Maybe she should have gotten her facts straight before she _snitched_."

"Don't talk about Marietta that way! She's going through a lot and she doesn't deserve—"

"What, my cynicism? Does anyone ever think they do? Why should I care what your friend is going through? It's her problem. Or, if you want to go for all that sensitive crap, you can let her cry on your shoulder. Oh! And then you can cry on hers! It will be one happy little sad, sorry, drippy _puddle._" Cho looked aghast.

_Perfect. _Gil thought, _Mission accomplished. She's completely forgotten the reason she started this conversation! And, hopefully, she'll be so put out that she'll avoid me altogether from now on!_

Gil ignored the small twinge of guilt he felt at her teary eyes and packed away his books.

"Well, if that's all you needed….I'll be going, then. See ya later, Soggy!"

*~*~*~*

Cho stood there, fighting back angry tears. She watched his arrogant back retreat and barely suppressed the urge to throw something at it. It was only as he disappeared around the end of the corridor that she remembered that she hadn't gotten an answer from him. _Crap! _She made a resolution then and there. She was going to make that arrogant jerk talk next time, no matter how he insulted her!


	3. In which Miss Soggy Gets a Backbone

**Chapter 3: In which Miss Soggy Gets a Backbone**

At dinner the next evening, Cho sat, fiddling with her plate. She glared at it with a level of malice befitting that of a dragon towards a particularly obdurate muggle knight. The unfortunate potatoes that had incurred her wrath already sported wounds inflicted by all manner of devices, including the customary knife and fork, as well as a spoon Cho had grabbed by mistake.

Gil watched from his customary seat at the Slytherin table, situated slightly apart form the roiling mass of chattering silver and green. He told himself that he was bored, that watching a random Ravenclaw girl commit tubercide was preferable to being a part of the idiotic conversation taking place on his left. There was no interest for him in discussing the sixth year, Draco Malfoy, or the ostentatious rumors circulating about him.

He was finding it difficult to maintain an aloof position, however. As he continued watching her, he realized that he was wondering about the reasons behind her brutal attack. Was she crying inside while she seethed? And, most of all, _why _was she sitting there?! She _always _sat halfway down the table with her gaggle of friends, and always faced _away_ from him, toward the Gryffindor table. So why all of a sudden was she sitting directly across from his special spot?

Suddenly Cho looked up. Gil gulped nervously. A dragon, eh? More like an exceedingly irritable _female _Hungarian Horntail. When her eyes found his, he amended: with a rather large and prickly stick up its rear. She stood up, keeping her eyes locked with his as she made her way over. Gil's mouth was dry and he discovered he had no witty insult for her as she stopped on the other side of the table, continuing to glare at him.

"What do you want?" The aggressive voice came from close by Gil's left elbow, making him jump. He looked, and realized he had instinctively slid closer to the pack when the outside threat approached.

_Dang it! _He thought, his base instincts warring with his sense of independence. He turned to Cho, returning her glare with a cool, placid look.

"Yes, what _do _you want? Did you need something?" As he spoke, he slid covertly away from the group again. Cho's smoldering eyes followed him and he recognized their burning determination. Well, whatever it was she wanted, she was going to have to fight a bit for it. Perhaps one more verbal brawl with him would be enough to make her steer clear. She'd learn that cacti's thorns hurt just as much the second time you hit them. He smiled slightly at the analogy, causing Cho's eyes to narrow.

"I would like to talk to you." She said through gritted teeth, "_Alone_."

"What?" He drew back, feigning surprise, "I thought you believed all Slytherins to be the same! What can you possibly say to one of us that cannot be said," he gestured down the table, "to the rest of us?"

Cho grimaced, then replied, "I want to talk about the History of Magic lesson yesterday."

"Well that's hardly a confidential matter. Why do you have to ask _me_ about it? There are plenty of other Ravenclaws in that class." He taunted her with his eyes, daring her to speak in front of their enthralled audience. Students at the Ravenclaw table were watching, though they couldn't possibly hear what was being said. A few spectators watched from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, too, but there was little interest in their eyes. It wasn't fun unless there was shouting and tears. _Perhaps there will be_, he thought to the crowd, _With Cho, no outburst is too pretentious_.

There was an ugly purple tinge to Cho's face when he turned his gaze back to her. Her fiery determination seemed to be quailing under so many seeking eyes.

"If that's all," Gil said, nonchalantly, "you should go back to you table. I would like to eat my pudding in _peace_." Cho's eyes were unfocused, and she half-turned away. _I win! _Gil thought in triumph. _I _always _win. _

He let out a barely audible snort, the smallest of smirks playing across his thin lips. At the sound, Cho tensed, as though the small breath of air had hit her with wounding force. Her eyes snapped into focus, blazing with rekindled rage. She whirled suddenly, her robes billowing around her as she faced Gil. He actually flinched back from her, so obvious was her fury.

"You will come out with me to a private place and discuss this," her voice came out in a low, dangerous hiss, "or I swear I will make you regret it."

Deliberating, Gil weighed the consequences of his options. On the one hand, stay put, and call her bluff. See if she could dent his record. On the other, follow her out of the Great Hall like a whipped puppy. Gil chose to stay put. He threaded his hands together and cradled them behind his head, relaxing on the bench, the picture of nonchalant ease.

"Go right ahead," he invited, "I have nothing to hide." His eyes challenged her to speak, daring her to cross him.

"Fine." Cho growled. Roughly pushing a sneering second-year boy to the side, she sat down on the bench opposite him. She looked him directly in the eye, matching him glare for glare, her fire against his ice.

"Why were you staring at me in History of Magic?"

"I wasn't. I was enjoying the sight of you drooling all over your non-existent notes. I was waiting for it to start flooding." There was an appreciative snicker down the Slytherins within hearing distance at the obvious diss. Those on the fringes passed it down to those out of earshot, so the chuckles traveled in a ripple down the entire line. Slytherins turned to Cho, their eyes narrowed in mirth at another's pain.

Cho refused to be deterred. She straightened her shoulders and looked Gil, once again, full in the face. He saw something there, a confidence, somehow, like she had an ace in the hole and was ready to play the winning hand. _We'll see_, thought Gil. _We'll see._

Cho scrunched her nose in a half-sneer and said: "What was that in the bathroom, then?"

Gil was thunderstruck, but only for a moment. It took just one covert look at the faces of the surrounding Slytherins to know that he was on thin ice. One false step and his carefully accumulated façade of vitriolic parley would be gone for good. He mustered all his anger and stood, pushing back his bench with enough force to nearly send the other occupants toppling. He glared his hardest at Cho, all ice in the bitterest winter storm, and growled, "That's it."

"I've had it! I've had it with you, your following me around, and everything! We're going to settle this once and for all. Follow me." And he whirled around and stalked off to the entrance hall, using hard, agitated steps to exaggerate his anger. Cho followed at a clipping, stumbling pace down the opposite side of the table. When the door slammed shut behind them, the hall was left in one of its rare moments of silence.

In the closely following turmoil, no one seemed to notice the obvious.

Cho had dealt the winning hand.


End file.
